"I wonder they trust you as far as this." "They do; I always return. They know I am unable to escape, and would be found and brought back if I tried; so they grant me my only solace, that of wandering in the woods." "This time they have trusted you once too often. Will you go with me, and let me take you back to your friends?" asked the captain, impulsively. "I would go with you most willingly; but would the venture not be too rash? Would it not endanger your own safety and that of your men, who might escape harm alone, but, impeded with a woman, you might lose your lives while saving hers. No, I had better stay where I am. You can be of more service without me," answered Millicent, with quiet forethought. "Not for a moment would I consider myself in the matter, Miss Gordon," replied the captain, with prompt assurance; "but perhaps it is not best to attempt to rescue you until I have secured more men." He remained silent a few minutes, apparently in deep thought, and said, at last, very decidedly, "No; in case we met even a small band of Indians we should be unable to resist, and they would surely recapture you or kill us all at once. If you will have a little patience, and still trust me, I promise to return and liberate you as soon as I can get men." "Yes, I trust you wholly; and, as for patience, the hope of rescue will make it infinite until you come," said Millicent, smiling. "Thank you for your trust; it shall not be misplaced. Be prepared at any time after a week for an attack upon the camp, and this time the war-cry will come from friends instead of enemies. May I do homage to the fair hand that has carried water to quench the thirst of an Indian squaw?" Before the blushing Millicent could deny the favor he had pressed her fingers to his lips. "I must return now, or they will look for me. See, the sun sets already." "I will go part way with you, as I wish to observe the situation of your present home." "Yes, "Abode, not home," Millicent said, half-jestingly. come with me, but tread softly or you may be heard," and she led the way through the wood. Upon reaching the brow of the hill she halted, and, placing her hand on the captain's arm, said, "Look through these trees into the clearing yonder." He did so, and saw a number of wigwams, with smoke curling out from their tops, and, sitting about on the ground outside, several women, and one or two old men. “And there you have lived for nearly a year; but it is late; I must leave you. Be of good courage, and believe that never a crusader felt his pledge to visit the Holy Land more sacred than I do mine to liberate you;" and, lifting his hat with deference, he withdrew into the forest. The scene above described carries the reader back to the time of the fierce and devastating war waged by King Philip against the settlers of New England, in which all the worst elements of the Indian nature came to the surface. The firebrand and the tomahawk were the weapons employed by the Indians to accomplish their purpose of destroying the advancing power of the white man; and so mercilessly did they use these that the outposts of civilization were swept away as by a whirlwind. The savages, avoiding direct conflict with organized forces of the English, made sudden and unsuspected attacks, under cover of darkness, upon exposed houses or towns, applying the torch to the buildings, and massacring the inhabitants or carrying them into captivity. Neither the life nor property of a white man was safe for an instant. While sitting quietly by his fireside or working in his cornfield, he was liable to instant death at the hands. of an unseen foe. In such a condition of affairs it is not surprising that spots, where of late the influence of civilization had begun to make itself felt, were abandoned by their terror-stricken inhabitants. Thus, for a while, the rude savages again appeared as rulers of the land, and the forest often resounded with their warcry as they fell on one partly-deserted town after another, and their yells of triumph rang on the hushes of midnight as they returned from their fiendish expeditions of plunder waving aloft the scalps of their victims. For a year or more this bloody war lasted, bringing death and desolation to many homes, until its guiding hand and vital breath, King Philip, was struck down, killed by one of his race. [TO BE CONCLUDED IN NEXT ISSUE.] THE SINGER. [FROM THE GERMAN OF GOETHE.] BY LAURA GARLAND CARR. "OUTSIDE the gate, what do I hear Along the drawbridge sounding? A song! Now let it reach my ear Through palace-halls resounding!" So speaks the king; the small page flies; The lackey comes; the message hies; The old man comes, low bowing. "These noble lords have welcomed me ; These fair dames give me greeting. What heavenly kingdom do I see With star-gleam, star-gleam meeting! Such splendor, pomp, and wealth allied, Desire must here rest satisfied, While Time forgets his speeding!" He pauses now; now strikes in song Full toned, of pleasing phrases. The king, for whom the songs awake, "Oh give to me no gift of gold! Such to your knights deliver, "I sing as some free wild bird sings, But may I beg a gift of thine? In golden beaker, brimming.” They bring it in; he drinks it up. "O drink-sweet, strength-bestowing! O happy house where one may sup Thank God-you share with me a part! [Webster Historical Society Papers.] THE WEBSTER FAMILY. BY HON. STEPHEN M. ALLEN. I. THE family of Webster, which settled on the easterly coast of Massachusetts and New Hampshire, became quite numerous, and emigrated to the various parts of western New Hampshire as early as 1763. Stephen Webster was one of the twelve pioneers of the town of Plymouth, N.H., in which, with other settlers of the backwoods, they had to endure great privations and hardships. The three Webster families which settled and remained in Plymouth always claimed Daniel and Ezekiel of Salisbury as first or second cousins. I quote from Moore Russell Fletcher, M.D., who was connected with the Webster family on both sides, the following narration. He says that Mrs. Stephen Webster and her sons and daughters, the youngest of whom was Mrs. Betsey Fletcher Webster, the mother of the doctor, and who died in 1863, at the advanced age of eighty-one,-gave him much of his information. 66 Stephen Webster, with eleven others, with their wives and children, went from Chester, N.H., to Plymouth, N.H., then a wilderness, about forty-five miles north of Penacook, now Concord, and there, on the Pemigewassett, near the juncture of Baker's River (afterwards so called), they erected a log-cabin, in that hitherto transient abode of the wild animals of the forest and the still wilder Indians, who at intervals passed through the place on their way to Penacook, Contoocook, Hooksett, Suncook, and Soucook, their old camping-grounds. These men, having selected lands for farms, had no alternative but to carry on their backs the articles of food, implements and seeds requisite for their colonization. They had axes, saws, augers, and shaves, or drawing-knives, and for protection and food their guns and ammunition; not forgetting their bibles, hymn-books, and tinder-boxes. In their journey through the wilderness from Penacook, a distance of sixty or seventy miles, they were guided by blazes on trees made by surveyors or men in search of lands, were obliged to cross streams on fallen trees reaching from bank to bank, and when hunger and fatigue compelled a halt, they selected a spot near some stream, drew forth their tinder-boxes, and with steel and flint struck a fire; then they selected flat stones, wet some Indian meal, placed it on the stones, and baked it for their frugal meal—their 'Johnny-cake.' At night they constructed a little booth of bushes, with their fire at its entrance, and, as they laid upon the boughs, their feet would be near the fire,-a great protection against wild animals who infested the forest and who are known to have great dread of fire. "Each day was a repetition of its predecessor. Upon their arrival their first efforts were directed to erecting a temporary wigwam of trees and bushes in their new home, and all reposed on the boughs, prior to which all joined in prayer and thanksgiving for their safe arrival and good health. On the morrow, after locating the spot for buildings, they began the erection of their log-houses, with one room, with opening for light, and an attic, which was accessible by a small ladder. The crevices between the logs were stopped with moss; the floor of the rooms, roofs, and the attics and doors were of small poles. A few days were sufficient to get their houses in the rough well under way. For food all had equal rights and took an equal part in procuring it. Three or four took dog and gun, and in an hour or two returned with a dead moose, bear, or three or four deer on their shoulders. They subsisted largely upon game, which was plenty in the forest, and when a change was desired they sought fish, with which the streams abounded. "A few months after their arrival, Mrs. Stephen Webster signified her expectation of adding another member to her family. It was a matter deemed of such importance that a town meeting was called, a moderator and clerk chosen, and the vote put to the meeting upon the name which should be given to the new-comer, which vote was unanimous 'if a boy his name shall be Plymouth.' But their vote did not prevent its being a girl, and she was called Lydia, with the remark, the first white child born in Plymouth.' "Upon one occasion, food being nearly exhausted, a settler took a bag, went to Concord, got one hundred pounds of Indian meal, took it on his shoulder, and carried it to Plymouth, |